Light the Stars. RaeAnne Thayne
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where she and her cronies read every controversial feminist, male-bashing self-help book they could find.
He had tried to be understanding about it all. Marjorie’s marriage to Hank Dalton hadn’t exactly been a happy one. His father had treated his mother with the same cold condescension he’d wielded like a club against his children. Once his father’s death had freed Marjorie from that oppressive influence, Wade couldn’t blame her for taking things a little too far in the opposite direction.
Besides, when he’d needed her in those terrible, wrenching days after Andrea’s death, Marjorie had come through. Without him even having to ask, she’d packed up her crystals and her yoga mat and had moved back to the ranch to help him with the kids. He would have been lost without her, a single dad with three kids under the age of six, one of them only a week old.
He knew she wasn’t completely happy with her life but he’d never thought she would go this far. She wouldn’t have, he thought, if it hadn’t been for this scheming Caroline Montgomery and whatever male relative she was in cahoots with.
He heard a belligerent yell coming from upstairs and wanted to pound his head on the table a few times. Six-thirty in the morning and it was already starting. How the hell was he going to do this?
“Want me to get Cody?” Seth asked as the cries rose in volume. Gramma, Gramma, Gramma.
Wade had to admit, the offer was a tempting one, but he forced himself to refuse. They were his children and he was the one who would have to deal with them.
He took off his denim jacket and hung his Stetson on the hook by the door.
“I’m on it. Just go take care of the stock and then we’ve all got to bring in the last hay crop we cut yesterday. The weather report says rain by afternoon so we’ve got to get it in fast. I’ll figure something out with the kids and get out there to help as soon as I can.”
Seth opened his mouth to say something then must have thought better of it. He nodded. “Right. Good luck.”
You’re going to need it. His brother left the words unspoken but Wade heard them anyway.
He couldn’t agree more.
Two hours later, Wade was rapidly coming to the grim realization that he was going to need a hell of a lot more than luck.
“Hold still,” he ordered a squirmy, giggling Cody as he tried to stick on a diaper. Through the open doorway into the kitchen, he could hear Tanner and Natalie bickering.
“Daaaad,” his eight-year-old daughter called out, “Tanner’s flicking Cheerios at me. Make him stop! He’s getting the new shirt Grandma bought me all wet and blotchy!”
“Tanner, cut it out,” he hollered. “Nat, if you don’t quit stalling over your breakfast, you’re going to miss the bus and I don’t have time to drive you today.”
“You never have time for anything,” he thought he heard her mutter but just then he felt an ominous warmth hit his chest. He looked down to the changing table to find Cody grinning up at him.
“Cody pee pee.”
Wade ground his back teeth, looking down at the wet stain spreading across his shirt. “Yeah, kid, I kind of figured that out.”
He quickly fastened the diaper and threw on the overalls and Spider-Man shirt Cody insisted on wearing, all the while aware of a gnawing sense of inadequacy in his gut.
He wasn’t any good at this. He loved his kids but it had been a whole lot easier being their father when Andrea was alive.
She’d been the one keeping their family together. The one who’d scheduled immunizations and fixed Nat’s hair into cute little ponytails and played Chutes and Ladders for hours at a time. His role had been the benevolent dad who showed up at bedtime and sometimes broke away from ranch chores for Sunday brunch.
The two years since her death had only reinforced how inept he was at the whole parenting gig. If it hadn’t been for Marjorie coming to his rescue, he didn’t know what he would have done.
Probably flounder around cluelessly, just like he was doing now, he thought.
He started to carry Cody back to the kitchen to finish his breakfast but the toddler was having none of it. “Down, Daddy. Down,” he ordered, bucking and wriggling worse than a calf on his way to an appointment with the castrator.
Wade set his feet on the ground and Cody raced toward the kitchen. “Nat, can you watch Cody for a minute?” he called. “I’ve got to go change my shirt.”
“Can’t,” she hollered back. “The bus is here.”
“Don’t forget your book report,” he remembered at the last minute, but the door slammed on his last word and he was pretty sure she hadn’t heard him.
With a quick order to Tanner to please behave himself for five minutes, he carried Cody upstairs with him and grabbed his last clean shirt out of the closet. The least his mother could have done was wait until after laundry day to pull her disappearing act, he thought wryly. Now he was going to have to do that, too.
He grabbed Cody and headed back down the stairs. They had nearly reached the bottom when the doorbell pealed.
“I’ll get it,” Tanner yelled and headed for the front door, still in his pajamas.
“No, me! Me!” Not to be outdone, Cody squirmed out of Wade’s arms and slid down the last few steps. Wade wasn’t sure how they did it, but both boys beat him to the door, even though he’d been closer.
Tanner opened it, then turned shy at the strange woman standing before him. Wade couldn’t blame him. Their visitor was lovely, he observed as he reached the door behind his sons, with warm, streaky brown hair pulled back into a smooth twisty thing, eyes the color of hot chocolate on a cold winter day and graceful, delicate features.
She wore a tailored russet jacket, tan slacks and a crisp white shirt, with a chunky bronze necklace and matching earrings, a charm bracelet on one arm and a slim gold watch on the other.
Wade had no idea who she was and she didn’t seem in any hurry to introduce herself. Probably some tourist who’d taken the wrong road out of Jackson, he thought, and needed help finding her way.
Finally he spoke.
“Can I help you?”
“Oh. Yes.” Color flared on those high cheekbones and she blinked a few times as if trying to compose herself. “The sign out front said the Cold Creek Ranch. Is this the right place?”
No. Not a lost tourist. As Tanner peeked around Wade’s legs and Cody held his chubby little arms out to be lifted again, Wade’s gaze traveled from the woman’s pretty, streaky hair to her expensive leather shoes, looking for some clue as to what she might be doing on his front porch.
If she was some kind of ranch supply salesperson, she was definitely a step above the usual. He had a lowering suspicion he’d buy whatever she was selling.
“You found us.”
Relief flickered across her expressive features. “Oh, I’m so glad. The directions weren’t exactly clear and I stopped at two other ranches before this one. I’d like to see Marjorie Dalton, please.”
Yeah, wouldn’t they all like to see her right about now? “There I’m afraid you’re out of luck. She’s not here.”
Right before his eyes, the lovely, self-assured woman on his porch seemed to fold into herself. Her shoulders sagged, her mouth drooped and she closed her eyes. When she opened them, he saw for the first time the weariness there and was uncomfortably aware of an odd urge to comfort her, to tuck her close and assure her everything would be all right.
“Can you tell me…that is, do you know where I might find her?”
He didn’t want to spill his mother’s whereabouts to some strange woman, no matter how she mysteriously plucked